A Different Kind of Punishment
by GrumpyCat503
Summary: In which Frigga convinces Odin that locking Loki in a cell is only a temporary solution. The Trickster God is banished to Midgard, stripped of his magic and immortality, and left under the care of the Avengers as a 17-year-old. Hilarity and angst obviously ensue when Loki not only has to deal with the Avengers as his legal guardians, but when he must attend high school too...
1. Chapter 1: The Verdict

**Chapter 1: The Verdict**

Loki's shackles rattled in time with his footsteps as he walked down the Great Hall of Asgard, a small army of armed guards prodding him along with spears. His expression was blank, fearless, remorseless, uncaring, and he refused to acknowledge Frigga, his own mother, until she uttered his name.

"Loki."

He turned toward her, straightening his shoulders, expression still neutral. "Hello mother. Have I made you proud?" His tone was sarcastic but Frigga could tell it was strained.

"Please," the goddess asked with stern desperation, "don't make this worse."

"Define worse?" her son's tone turned cutting, and his facade seemed to tighten, a blank face on a tortured young man.

Frigga wanted to comfort her son and yell at him at the same time, but before she could utter a word, her husband, the Allfather, cut in from his seat on the throne.

"Enough!" he declared. "I will speak to the prisoner alone."

 _Prisoner._ The word brought bile to Frigga's throat. Loki, her own son, a fugitive, a killer, a murderer. She knew it was true but, as she strode away, listening to Odin declare the life sentence…

 _By the Nine Realms, there had to be a better option._

Only five minutes after Loki's sentence, Odin strode out through the large golden doors, knuckles white, expression furious. Undeterred from her husband's anger, Frigga followed, strides brisk and graceful under her ocean blue robes.

"Odin, my love," she caught up to him, the tempo of her footsteps changing to match her husband's. "You can't just lock Loki up for the rest of his life. He's just a boy, and he's _our son_."

With a grimace, the All-Father stopped and turned around to face his stern wife, "Frigga, my dear," his voice was tired, upset. "Loki is no longer a child. He is responsible for the deaths of _hundreds_ of innocent people and must be locked away for the good of everyone in the Nine Realms."

"And what of his own good?" her question hangs in the air like frigid fog.

"His own good?" Odin repeated, voice louder, heckles rising. "He _should_ have been executed, but his life has been spared! That is mercy enough."

"Mercy wasn't what I was referring to," Frigga tone carried a melancholy calmness. "His own good is his health, the wellbeing of his soul, his own inner peace-"

"He won't find he peace!" Odin argued. "He just wants to be king!"

"Yes," Frigga's tone was like venom. "And _who_ told him that kingship was his destiny?"

The All-Father paused. After a few heavy moments, he sighed in defeat, his one good eye a pool of sadness and grief, "So, what do you propose I do instead of locking our son up in the dungeon?"

"The same as you did to Thor: strip him of his power and banish him to Midgard," Frigga's voice never wavered, and her eyes were like steel. "The experience should humble him, as it did Thor."

"And if Loki escapes?" Odin's voice was testy.

"He _won't_ escape. We have Thor's new allies in Midgard to watch over him."

Odin's face formed an expression of deep contemplation. "I will think about it," he decided. His cape fluttered through the air as he turned back to leave.

Frigga smiled sadly as she watched her husband leave. Odin would likely implement the plan, but it was ultimately up to Loki to develop a willingness for change.

And it wasn't in the Mischief God's nature to change…

oooOOOooo

Loki stood in front of the Bifrost, still chained, glaring daggers at the All-Father, whose very presence caused the air to restlessly stir. The Bifrost glowed and flickered, a barrage of multi-colored light, and Heimdall's golden eyes watched their every move. Thor stood behind silently watching as well.

"Loki Laufeyson," Odin's voice roared like a lion, a sound of power, a sound of strength. "You have betrayed Asgard. You have betrayed your king. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have spread chaos and destruction across the Nine Realms, killing innocents with the horrors of war!"

"Using the same speech as you did with Thor?" Loki put up a smug façade. "How pathetic."

Ignoring the trickster, Odin continued. "You are unworthy of these realms. You are unworthy of your title!"

Loki's armor peeled off into the air, leaving a green cotton shirt in its place. The God of Lies watched in horror as his flashy vestments were reduced to simple clothing.

"You are unworthy of the loved ones you betrayed!" Odin continued. You are unworthy of your power!"

Green magic was siphoned from Loki's fingers, entering a small dagger in the All-Father's hand.

"Lastly," Odin's voice seemed to roar even louder. "You are unworthy of your status as an Aesir! I hereby remove your longevity. Until you are worthy of it, you will live as a Midgardian."

"What?!" Loki's voice was shocked. He looked down at himself, at his shifting form. He grew shorter, younger, until he was in his late adolescence, a teenager in Midgardian years, around seventeen. "Why?" he snarled. "Why did you do this to me?"

"Your mother believes this punishment will better serve you," Odin said. "And your age… We age faster in comparison to our Midgardian counterparts in relation to our lifespan. In Midgard, you would still be a minor, a youth, which Frigga apparently still considers you to be as well."

He turned to exit, cape billowing in the wind. On the way out, he clapped his hand against Thor's shoulder. His eldest son looked shocked at the display of power, a bit daunted, worried.

"Take care of him, Thor," Odin whispered, slipping Loki's dagger into Thor's hands. "He might be able to use this someday."

"Yes father."

The God of Thunder took a step forward, grabbing old of his now _much_ younger brother's arm. With a little convincing on the part of Thor, the two siblings stepped into the Bifrost and disappeared into the rainbow light.

oooOOOooo

Tony Stark was completely drunk on the Asgardian mead Thor had brought as a present, but somehow, he still managed to speak coherently, as he bartered with Thor over the fate of a certain God of Mischief. "So, your eyepatch-y dad wants _us_ to take care of your asshole brother, who almost destroyed the world and killed us, but is now a powerless wimpy teenager?" He asked, expression amused.

Thor shifted uncomfortably, "Yes."

"Are all expenses paid?" Steve Rogers chimed in, expression more serious, yanking the mug of alcohol out of Tony's hand as the billionaire tried to drink more. Stark let out a disappointed wine, and sunk into the couch, burying his mead-covered face in one of the expensive-looking silk pillows.

"My father claims he is willing to provide money for Loki's academics considering Midgard's strict rules regarding the subject," Thor said.

"We'll have to think about it," Bruce Banner muttered, adjusting his glasses, then shifting to readjust the sleeves of his purple button-down dress shirt. He served as another voice of reason. "I mean he still might have some tricks up his sleeves."

"But under our watch?" Natasha Romanov disagreed with her colleague's statement. "We can beat him. We did last time, and besides," she spared a glance at the teenage God of Mischief as he lingered around the Avengers' "emergency cage" (an electro-magnetic force field, courtesy of drunk Tony). "I know when he's manipulating us, and he's in too much of a vulnerable state to do that now."

"And what about his scepter?" Clint Barton argued. "His magic is gone, but when I was under the influence of that thing. That thing… It was powerful."

"SHIELD can obscure the weapon's location can it not?" Thor's tone turned quieter, to ensure his brother would no hear from his cell. Of course, Tony had included a sound-blocking system in the "emergency cage," but with Loki, one could never be too careful.

"Yeah, I guess we can," Clint still didn't sound convinced.

"Alright let's have a vote," Tony lifted his face from the pillow, apparently listening the whole time. "All in favor for becoming Asshole's nannies?"

He raised his hand, and Steve, Natasha, and Thor followed suit.

"Looks like we have a majority," Stark declared. "Sorry, Clint, Bruce, no hand raising for you."

Hawkeye rolled his eyes, and Bruce bit his lip. "I still don't agree with this," Dr. Banner said. "But I think we can all say that the Big Guy could take Loki down if we really needed."

"Amen to that, Science-Bro" Tony said to Bruce. Then, he turned toward the nearby JARVIS speaker, "JARVIS, unlock Loki from his cell."

Tony's "emergency cage" dissipated into thin air, and with a smug smirk on his face Iron Man walked up to the former god, "Hey kiddo, how does shawarma sound for dinner?"

Loki's expression was one of pure confusion.

* * *

 _And there's Chapter 1, people! Tell me what you think, and please review! I plan on making the chapters longer in the future, so I guess you guys should just consider this as kind of a prologue. This takes place right after the first Avengers, ignoring all the canon from Phase 2 because I am a reminiscent idiot of the one year we all thought that the Avengers were going to be bro-hanging in the Avengers Tower. And yes, based on the numbers/percentages, Loki is seventeen in human years. To make an excuse for this I just figured that the Aesir had shorter childhoods in comparison to their lifespans, et voila! I have an excuse to right a funny high school fic. I hope to continue writing this within the next week or so, but I've been sick, so missed work obviously is my priority right now. And for those who are following my other ongoing stories: She Said, He Said; and Water: In Tide and Time, I'm sorry about the delay. Writer's block is awful!_

 _ **AGAIN, BECAUSE I'M ANNOYING: PLEASE REVIEW!**_

 _-GrumpyCat503_


	2. Chapter 2: Rush

**Chapter 2: Rush**

Loki remembered letting go.

He remembered what it felt like to fall: the feeling of his stomach entering his throat, exhilarating, heart wrenching. He remembered the bitter coldness that began to lock over his heart. He remembered the disappointed look Odin had given him, the pitying look of his brother, Thor, the oaf, the brute. He remembered closing his eyes, lulled into sleep, letting the darkness take him for all eternity.

But it wouldn't.

It spat him back out like poison.

He woke up in a prison, a torture chamber, where pain was all he knew. And it flourished inside his mind, preying on his fears and showing him again and again his mistakes, his failures, his weaknesses. In its deep gravelly voice, the pain told him what he should do, what he wanted, and it echoed in his mind with festering urgency.

" _The earth, the earth. That's what you want. The earth, the earth. If you do what I ask, I'll give you the earth."_

Confusion was his first reaction. Confusion and then heart-wrenching desperation, and then need, and then animalistic hunger.

The pain was right. Loki _needed_ the earth. Loki _needed_ Midgard.

So, he made a deal with pain, and it's promise rung in his ears.

" _The earth, the earth. If you do what I ask, I'll give you the earth."_

Then, the darkness ended, and the coldness struck him at his very core.

Loki opened his eyes, gasping, sitting up with shock as freezing water soaked him to the bone. At first panic seized his chest, but as he looked down at his hands -which were unbound, unchained but smaller and slenderer than usual- he remembered what had happened: Odin's punishment, the Avengers guardianship, the strange dish known as shawarma…

Sadly, all of that had not been a dream.

"How did you like that prank, brother?" Thor grinned above him, in his arms he held a metal bucket that had likely been filled with ice water just moments before.

Hiding his shock with a subtle grin, Loki shrugged, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "If you really wanted to make it good, you should have put lye in that bucket."

Thor laughed, but Loki could sense the tension between them. It lay there like a thick invisible wall, making the air heavy in front of them. The wall, maybe Loki liked it, maybe he didn't, but Thor broke it, clapping a hand against Loki's now narrower shoulder.

"I'll see you outside for breakfast, brother," the God of Thunder exited, gently closing the door behind him.

Loki took his time getting dressed, shaking off his soaked clothing into a pile on the floor. Someone, likely JARVIS or Thor, had lain out new garments for him. A green shirt, black trousers, leather boots, dark jacket, not bad, he supposed. They fit him well. Before leaving the room, he spared glance of himself in the mirror.

 _Asgard_ , he hadn't looked this young in centuries. Splaying his hands, Loki gave a halfhearted attempt to use magic, to change his appearance.

Nothing happened.

Loki sighed.

The smell of cooked food wafted through the door, causing the former god's stomach to growl. Following the needs of his gut, the former God of Mischief, walked out to face his former foes for a proper meal.

oooOOOooo

They were called _waffles_ , apparently. Circles of pastry wafers covered in syrup, sugar, fruit. It was Dr. Banner who made them, but none of the Avengers showed any real sign of appreciation for the doctor's delectable creation. They were all too busy sending wary looks at Loki, like the night before with the shawarma. The first person to even bother speaking was Romanov, who slapped a giant file in front of his place setting, gray eyes cold, emotionless.

"Read it," she commanded.

"What is it?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Your cover," Romanov answered bluntly. "We can't have a 'Loki' registering at a high school. There'll probably be a riot. People will try to kill you."

"Not that we'd mind!" Stark yelled loudly from the couch. "Fist me, Rogers," he commanded, holding out a fist to the Captain who sat next to him, sipping at a smoothie.

Rogers rolled his eyes, but complied, sending a very harsh punch into Stark's knuckle. The inventor gave a small whine, clutching his injured hand.

Loki looked at the quarreling team-members with a grin. "That much inner-team conflict, has to be unhealthy. It's a miracle you all even beat me."

His comment was met with zero response, and out of boredom, the former god began to read the file Romanov placed on his desk.

"Luke Johnson?" he asked, reading the painfully common name from the paper. "That's the most creative name you could come up with?"

"It wasn't really creativity we were going for," Banner admitted from behind the kitchen counter, mixing more waffle batter together.

"Well, it will take a lot of creativity to explain why I'm without a legal guardian," Loki muttered, taking note of the unfilled box on the file.

"Oh, actually we've solved that," Tony grinned from his spot on the couch. "It's actually-"

oooOOOooo

Midgardians were maddening, Loki decided as he trudged into the school building, unhappily following Clint Barton, who the Avengers had ultimately decided to be his "father." Humans were completely insane. Why anyone would think locking up a bunch of adolescents into one building was a good idea, was lost to him. It was idiotic to think these simpletons could "learn" together without tearing each other to shreds, and it was fatuous to send people to rot for several hours doing nothing. He would change foolish notions like these if he ruled humanity. If he ruled humanity-

"Hey, _Luke_ ," Barton's voice interrupted Loki's thoughts, purposefully overenunciating his cover name, an attempt to annoy him, perhaps? "Hurry up."

"Coming, _Dad_ ," he replied, rolling his eyes. Humans. So impatient. Perhaps it was their short lifespans that made them rush so often.

The school's "office" was a small room lined with desks and chairs, some in use, some obviously not. The color scheme of the space was rather dull, in Loki's opinion: white walls, brown furnishings, minimum decorations. But, he figured simplicity was necessary in a supposed "educational" setting. An older woman, with graying brown hair and glasses, looked up when they walked into the office, plastering a saccharine smile onto her face.

"Welcome to Morrow Academy," the woman's voice was just a sickly sweet as her smile. "I'm the school's guidance counselor, Mrs. Brannigan. You must be, Luke."

Loki put up one of his best grins, "It is a _pleasure_ to meet you Mrs. Brannigan." He shook her hand politely.

Mrs. Brannigan beamed, turning her attention to Clint Barton, whose expression could only be described as disgusted. "Mr. Johnson, You have raised such a polite son! You must be proud."

" _Very_ ," Barton responded bluntly, throwing her slightly off guard.

After a few moments of confusion, she plastered her grin write back onto her face. "Well, there will be some paper work to fill out, so you'll probably be a little late for your third period class. Oh, and here's your schedule!"

Mrs. Brannigan held out a piece of paper which Loki accepted. He read down the list:

 _Period 1: Study Hall_

 _Period 2: AP Calculus_

 _Period 3: Physical Education/Health_

 _(B Lunch)_

 _Period 4: AP World Civ._

 _Period 5: AP Biology II_

 _Period 6: Latin I_

 _Period 7: AP Literature 12_

"Physical education?" he inquired reading out the title of his third period class.

"You know gym? P.E.?" Mrs. Brannigan smiled comfortingly, and Loki could hear Barton snickering behind him.

"You'll love it, son," the archer said, harshly clapping his enemy on the back. "Go make some new friends, kid!"

And with that, Loki was left to experience one of the worst horrors Midgardian high school had to offer: gym class.

oooOOOooo

Loki felt sweaty and awful and dead inside. The gym coach, an old obese man, named Coach Branch, basically sat in a wheelchair the entire class, yelling at them to run laps. Sure, Loki wasn't in bad shape, but running for an hour straight would cause anyone to be sore, even Thor. He found himself too tired to be hungry, and found himself wandering towards the library, finding refuge in a giant lounge chair taking a break from the world.

Just as his eyes began to close, a slight commotion from outside in the hall caught Loki's attention. Three figures ran buy, two of them yelling at each other at the top of their lungs.

"You come back here now!" a girl's voice yelled angrily.

"Make me!" a boy's voice taunted back.

 _How childish._

The yelling faded into the background, but Loki could hear someone's footsteps returning. A girl stumbled angrily into the library, face twisted into an annoyed grimace, brown hair falling out of her ponytail, arms crossed angrily over her chest.

"Idiots," she hissed to no one in particular. Her voice was a light alto, slightly deeper than the other girl who had just yelled. She sat down on the armchair next to Loki, burying her face into her palms. She caught him looking at him, and after giving him a contemplative hazel-eyed look herself, she sighed.

"Branch?" she asked, gesturing to Loki's still sweaty face and pale skin.

He gave her a polite nod.

"I feel you," she muttered, pulling out a small device from her denim trousers, looking at it for a moment and then putting it away, she was clearly impatient, waiting for something, and out of boredom, Loki decided to ask:

"So, what ails you?"

"Teresa Logan and Ian Roscoe," she said, offering up a saddened smile. "They're breaking up _again_ , and they're treating me as their messenger."

"Oh, to be young again and feel loves keen sting?" Loki quoted an old Midgardian poem had found in the Asgardian palace's library.

"Precisely," the girl grinned with delight. After a second of thought, she held out a hand. "I'm Alicia Hughes, by the way."

He shook it, "Luke Johnson." _By Asgard, that name is so boring._

The bell rang, and Alicia shot up like an arrow, pulling her backpack onto her back. "It was nice meeting you, Luke!" she yelled, rushing out of the library like a bolt of lightning.

Loki simply sighed to himself, taking his time in lifting his bag.

 _Humans, so small, short lived, unimportant, always in a rush._

With a haughty smirk, the former God of Lies, strutted out of the library and into the crowded hallway.

* * *

 _Et voila! There's chapter two! I hope you guys all enjoyed! I have to admit: it was pretty fun writing from Loki's point of view. He's a challenge. He has a very interesting point of view of the world: selfish, melodramatic, funny, but I've never seen him as inherently evil. And with regards to this chapter's opening scene: I've also always figured that Thanos had some brainwashing done to Loki due to the sickly look to him when he first came out of the portal in the_ Avengers _movie._

 _Because I don't really know where I'm going for this fic I'm open to any suggestions you have to help Loki bond with the Avengers or his fellow high school students. Feel free to critique my writing style, or write about what you think of my OC's, or just review because I like reviews and will give you a large plethora of free cookies._

 _Remember:_ _ **COOKIES**_

 _Thanks for reading y'all,_

 _-GrumpyCat503_


	3. Chapter 3: Enquêtes Curieuses

**Chapter 3: Enquêtes Curieuses**

The bell rang, and as always, students made a mad rush to last period. After quickly exiting the French classroom, Alicia squeezed her way by her slower peers, attempting to keep pace with Cathy Ing, her friend, who possessed longer strides from her runner's height at 5'8.

"So," Cathy's usually enthusiastic voice emoted a smaller, hushed tone, signaling a more private conversation between the two friends: "Ian broke up with Teresa?"

Alicia sighed exhaustedly at the question. It had been asked repeatedly to her the entire day, even at one point by a teacher. "No," she replied. "Teresa broke up with Ian."

Cathy's mouth quirked into a semi-amused, semi-sympathetic grin. "What over?"

"Among other strange things, she's apparently tired of him wearing khaki shorts."

Cathy laughed, "That's our Teresa, always so picky." Her expression turned a bit more teasing and she changed the subject: "Speaking of love, friendship, and the horror known as khaki shorts, you find anyone you like lately?" She waggled her eyebrows playfully.

It was a casual question, one the two friends typically joked about weekly, but this time Alicia found herself thinking about the boy she had met in the library at lunch. Luke Johnson. She had enough self-awareness to admit to herself that he was very _good looking_ (that was 50% of the reason she approached him, the other half evading the wrath of Ian and Teresa), but to have a crush on him? He was a strange enigma to her, his blasé politeness frustratingly unreadable. She would have get to know him better to even harbor any feelings for him.

 _Unraveling the riddle that is Luke Johnson, now that would be a fun experience._

"You're being quiet for too long," Cathy's voice dragged Alicia out of her thoughts. "You've met someone."

"I can't say I haven't," Alicia shrugged nonchalantly, attempting to make her answer into an ambiguously neutral joke.

"And I can say you have," Cathy smirked in reply.

Alicia was beat.

They made it to their English classroom, which was already full of students. Making her way to her seat in the back of the room, Alicia was shocked to find that her partner desk (which was always empty) was strangely taken.

Luke Johnson lounged in the seat, lazily skimming through a borrowed copy of _Macbeth_. His green eyes met hers, widening slightly in recognition, but his pleasant features quickly relaxed back into their indifferent expression. His gaze swiftly returned to his book, never looking back up at her as she slipped into her seat.

 _Asshole._

He politely acknowledged her in one occasion and pointedly ignored her the next. Alicia couldn't help but feel slighted. She also couldn't help but feel a bit more interested.

Perhaps she was secretly a masochist.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she slipped it out, hiding the screen from Luke with her hand as she read the text on the screen. It was from Cathy.

 _so you fell for the tall dark mysterious type huh?_

Alicia met eyes with Cathy from across the room who was making the most absurd duck face from her seat in the front. She rolled her eyes, and began to type out her answer.

I haven't "fallen" for him. I barely know him.

It only took five seconds for Cathy to respond.

 _dude you spent ten whole seconds eye-fucking with the guy and then when he didnt say anything you did your "unrequited love" face._

Alicia turned red.

I do not have an unrequited love face! She typed furiously.

 _you do and it makes you look like an orphan baby seal. by the way is his name lucian? he looks like a lucian._

His name his Luke.

 _luke? I was so close yet so far. whats his last name? I bet its darkhold or some goth shit._

No its Johnson.

 _johnson? luke johnson? that is a painfully boring name._

I know.

Dots appeared on Alicia's phone, indicating that Cathy had another retort, but before the message was sent, the English teacher, Ms. Cohen walked into the room.

"Hello young scholars!"

Alicia shoved her phone back into her pocket, and noted Luke setting down _Macbeth_ at the corner of her eye.

Ms. Cohen was a tall woman with auburn hair and an over-energetic smile. She was one of those people who was infectiously happy but secretly a sadist. She had fun classes but was a merciless grader, and Alicia had barely managed to keep her GPA above 4.0 because of the class.

"Today we're welcoming a new student to our class, Luke Johnson," she gestured toward Luke who seemed to shrink into his seat. "Please give him a warm Morrow Academy welcome!"

A couple people clapped, a couple people waved, a bunch of girls swooned, and Cathy looked like she was going to die holding in all her laughter. Alicia looked over at Luke to find the source of Cathy's amusement. The guy's face was morphed into a hilarious expression that was some place in between pleased, embarrassed, and confused.

Alicia bit back a grin of her own.

"Alright, enough, enough," Ms. Cohen had to shush the class which began to get a bit rowdy with end-of-the-day excitement. "Today we'll be reading Act 2 of _Macbeth_. So please turn to Act 2 in your books."

Everyone complied.

They ran through Scene 1 rather quickly, each student reading one part. Performances varied from melodramatic to monotoned to well done. The reading cycle came quickly to the back where Luke sat, and the scene transitioned to scene 2.

"Before Luke starts reading," Ms. Cohen interrupted. "Please note that this monologue is one of the most infamous in all of Shakepeare's works. We'll be analyzing it later today." She turned to him with another infectious smile, "Please carry on."

Next to Alicia, Luke cleared his throat. Alicia attempted not to look over at him as he began to speak.

" _Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee_ ," Luke's voice was hushed, silky, smooth, questioning. He held out one of his hands, staring at it with dark interest.

It was enough theatrics to cause Alicia stare with interest.

" _I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling as to sight?_ " he paused, allowing an almost tortured grin to spread across his face. " _Or art thou but a dagger of the mind, a_ false creation _, proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?_ "

" _I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; and such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, or else worth all the rest; I see thee still_ ," Luke took a deep breath, eyes widening. This second dramatic pause was deafening, and Alicia couldn't help but squirm in her seat a little. Luke gave a small smirk at her frustration.

" _And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before. There's no such thing: it is the bloody business which informs thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld. Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse the curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates. Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design moves like a ghost."_

Nearing the end of the monologue, Luke picked up pace, words speeding and falling like waves on the ocean. " _Thou sure and firm-set earth, hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear thy very stones prate of my whereabout, and take the present horror from the time, which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives_."

Luke gave one last pause, and Alicia waited in hungry anticipation for him to finish the line. " _I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell. That summons thee to heaven or to hell_."

The class paused, and Alicia realized they were all looking for her to continue the next line. She cleared her throat and read her line, relaxing into her seat when she was finished.

In her pants pocket, her phone vibrated, she took it out, shifting her body to shield the screen from Luke. Again, the culprit of in-class-texting was Cathy.

 _i think i can write on the behalf of everyone here that i am having a serious boner right now._

Alicia quickly shoved her phone her pocket, cheeks turning bright red. Next to her, Luke Johnson clasped his hands behind his head, completely relaxed.

oooOOOooo

Relief would be the first word Loki would use to describe his release from the prison known as a "school." The second would be embarrassment because Clint Barton decided that it would be a brilliant idea to overdramatize Loki's release.

The archer arrived at the school in one of Stark's ridiculously neon-colored vehicles, his attire entirely different from earlier that day. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright colored sweater, ludicrously tight denim pants, and sandals with mismatched crazily patterned socks.

"Hey Lukey!" he stepped out of the car, jumping up in down with the maturity of a child. Behind him, Agent Romanoff also sat in the car, wearing similarly ridiculous attire, smirking behind eccentrically shaped sunglasses.

People stared, obviously. Some students laughed. Loki attempted to keep his head down as he made his way toward the car, but Barton enveloped him in a bone crushing hug, lifting the former god off his feet and spinning him around in a circle bridal style.

"Fuck yeah Lukey! You did your first day of school!"

Loki attempted not to release the contents of his stomach as the archer twirled around manically. He could already hear people laughing, not that he particularly cared about what the mere mortals thought, but _damn_ Barton!

He squirmed out of the archer's grasp, diving into the backseat of the car, but just because Loki was where he was supposed to be didn't mean Barton was done with his circus act.

Loki watched as Agent Romanoff passed Barton a large bowl of candy. The archer began to throw pieces of chocolate at the adolescents who caught them with glee.

"Yeah guys I'm Luke's dad!" Barton yelled, finishing off the spectacle with one last giant fist full of sweets.

The archer jumped into the driver's seat and pulled on his seatbelt. After purposely turning on the radio, the archer floored the gas pedal, and the sports car blasted out of the parking lot to the tune of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

Loki sighed as he watched the school disappear into the distance. Living with the Avengers might have been a worse punishment than being locked in a cell.

oooOOOooo

The universe was dark in Thanos's realm. Dark, and painful, and full of death. Stars flickered, barely alive, and asteroids floated in eerie orbit around the throne in which Thanos sat. The Mad Titan looked angry as he faced The Other, his most esteemed servant. "Am I to believe that you have _lost_ , Loki?" his voice boomed powerfully.

"Yes," The Other bowed deeply. "We believe he might still be on Asgard. Should we send a militia to check?"

"Obviously. The trickster must pay for his failure. Because of him we lost not only the Space Stone, but the Mind Stone. Send Nebula as the head of this operation. I believe she will do well in this job."

"Yes, Milord."

 _And there's chapter 3! Almost all your suggestions have been put into my idea list, so expect to see more than 90% of them. This chapter was very entertaining for me to write, and I hope you all find it just as enjoyable to read. Tell me what you think of my OC's, and again because I always value your opinions-_

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW!**_

 _-GrumpyCat503_


	4. Chapter 4: Communism and Invitations

**Chapter 4: Communism and Invitations**

The Avengers ate dinner together almost every night, apparently, and the night after Loki's first day of high school was no exception. They dubbed it "Spaghetti Night," and Loki spent the hours prior to the meal watching Natasha and Clint stir the pasta over a plethora of calculus problems.

For the archer and the spy, cooking was an arduous task. They spent most of their time fighting over the amount of condiments to use in the meal, occasionally spilling vegetables onto the floor. The agents' arguing wasn't the only thing Loki noticed, however. There was a tension he could sense, a slight undercurrent of perhaps _romantic_ feelings between the Widow and the Hawk?

 _Yes, indeed._

Loki smirked as he watched Barton's fingers linger just a bit too long at Romanoff's hips as he brushed past her to grab a wooden spoon. Her lips quirked up slightly in response to his touch, an unintentional reaction but still there.

" _Love is for children,"_ Romanoff had told Loki bluntly, face neutral and blank behind the glass cage. He had heard the tremor in her voice, however. She had been lying, and here was the evidence behind that lie right in front of Loki's eyes.

"What are you smiling about, Reindeer Games?" Clint stole Tony's nickname examining the teenager with obvious contempt.

"Calculus," Loki gave a half-truth: his own opinion on a menial matter. "It's such an easy subject. The simplicity of your mortal education is astounding. How do you expect progression in your race if you teach your children so little?"

"With faith," Clint shrugged, dipping his finger inside of the bowl of tomato sauce. "Blind faith." He licked his finger, and his eyes narrowed. "Nat, this needs more salt!"

The Black Widow rolled her eyes, moving toward the cabinet to reach for said condiment. "You are so picky today, Clint."

"Yeah, I think it has to do with becoming a father." After giving a pointed look at Loki, Clint gestured at his head. "Do I have gray hairs?"

Romanoff examined her partner with feigned interest, "None that I can see." She gave him a peck on the cheek.

Clint scowled, adjusting the sleeves of the neon sweater he was still wearing, "I don't believe you."

Loki gave another small smirk as he looked down at his Calculus homework. _Now about finding the cosine of a triangle…_

oooOOOooo

"Nice job, Clint and Natasha," Captain Rogers twisted a huge strand of spaghetti onto his spoon, scooping it into his mouth. "We should keep this spaghetti recipe. Where'd you guys get it?"

"Pinterest," Romanoff said, swallowing a forkful of pasta.

"What?" the Captain looked lost.

"Judging by the silly name, I'm guessing it's one of your internet sites," Loki guessed, trying a bite of the strange looking dish. It was moist, almost too juicy, but was better than Stark's shwarma. He wiped some of the red sauce that lingered on his mouth with a napkin.

"Yeah one of our silly 'internet sites,'" Stark glared, clearly annoyed. "Speaking of 'silly things,'" he mimicked Loki's accent much to the amusement of his teammates, "how was your first day of school, Loki?"

Next to Stark, Thor perked up, eyes widening with interest. "Yes, Loki, do tell us," the Thunder God boomed. "I too am interested in the complexities of mortal education."

"It was boring, trivial, and a complete waste of time. It's a wonder why all your children haven't rioted at this point." Loki finished his complaint with a sip of water. "Under my rule, there wouldn't be a need for such a ridiculous waste of time."

"So, what would you do with them then?" Banner questioned quietly, expression somewhere between serious and teasing. "Send them all of to work in work camps?"

"At first, yes," Loki shrugged, "but the conditions would not be as awful as your repellent version of the phrase, and they would all share in the fruit of their labors."

"Holy shit!" Stark sputtered, a mouthful of spaghetti still in his mouth. "Loki's a Communist!"

oooOOOooo

Communism apparently a Midguardian political ideal that was extremely similar to the way Asgard was ruled. Everyone worked and everyone reaped the benefit, and everyone was bound to serve the Allfather (or the "dictator" as Barton had explained to him in Midguardian terms). While the "communist" society in Asgard had thrived, Midguardians could not keep one up without fighting against one another like two bilgesnipes over an auroch carcass. Typical mortals. Loki couldn't help but smirk about it as he prepared himself for school the next day.

Pepper Potts, Tony's assistant and paramour, had bought more clothes for him, claiming that the ones Tony and Thor had picked out for him were too "rugged." His newest outfit consisted of dark blue trousers he remembered Tony referring to as "jeans," a white button down tunic, a dark green blazer, and nice leather shoes. He decided that he liked Miss Pott's sense of style better than Tony's. In the mirror, he looked more polished and refined.

However, Loki gave a small frown; he admittedly still missed his leather jacket from yesterday,

Like the day before, he tried in vain to use magic. He tried to project a smaller illusion of the jacket on his body but it didn't work. He tried to project a watch onto his wrist. Again, _nothing_.

He sighed, defeated, and walked out to eat breakfast.

oooOOOooo

Study Hall was Loki's first class, which apparently meant that he could wander around and do whatever he wanted if it followed the long list of school guidelines he had signed the day before. Because he had no assignments from his teachers the other day, he figured he could go to the library and find something to read. There had to be something that Midgardians wrote that was at least adequately intriguing.

The books were ordered by genre and by the author's alphabetical last name. He perused the fiction section judging titles and covers for a good read. As he began to open one book, to skim through its' contents, a voice interrupted him:

"Unless you love trashy romance, I wouldn't read that if I were you."

Loki turned around and snapped the book shut, slightly startled, but he didn't let it show on his face. He had to look down a bit to see the speaker; it was the same girl who had approached him yesterday: Alicia. She watched him with the same piercing energy which Loki found to be annoying.

"What would you suggest I read then?" he asked, his voice halfway between harsh and amused.

Seemingly unaffected by his tone, she walked down towards the other end of the isle, "You strike me as someone who would like historical fiction. So, I'd suggest this, if you haven't read it before- " she picked up a thick novel and slid it across the flat table top of the book shelf.

" _The Book Thief_?" he read aloud, examining the cover.

"It's a kind of a romance," she explained. "But not really. It isn't shitty. It also provides an interesting perspective on German citizens during World War II."

"Hmm," Loki replied, skimming through the books pages and letting a few sentences absorb into his mind. Despite Alicia's extraverted nature, he had to give her credit for the book she chose. It still didn't mean that he didn't find her to be a bit suspicious…

He felt her gaze still upon him as he looked up from the novel. A stinging comment danced at the tip of his tongue, ready to banish the girl from his presence, but she opened her mouth first:

"Me and some friends were going to go to Shake Shack and grab some food after school today, do you want to come with us?" Alicia spoke faster than normal, but her demeanor still seemed relaxed. She smiled at Loki hopefully, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

Again, Loki found the girl's blissfulness to be a nuisance, but decided to think before letting her offer go to waste. There were advantages to accepting her kindness that could not be ignored. Primarily, he would not have to be humiliated by Barton and Romanoff again. Secondly, he could put an end to his boredom, a disease that had become more potent than his actual fury at being mortal.

"Sure," he shrugged, letting out the answer as nonchalantly as possible.

"Okay, cool," she gave him a thumbs up. "I'll see you there." Her brown curls bounced with rampant energy as she skipped back to a table at the other end of the library.

Loki sighed. He hoped he wasn't making a serious mistake.

oooOOOooo

"Did you just do what I think you did?" Cathy asked, attempting to put a french fry into her mouth without Mrs. Jenkins, the librarian, catching her.

Alicia sat down, smoothing her skirt, "If asking Luke to come with us to Shake Shack was what you are thinking of than yes, yes I did."

"Dude, that's supposed to be a girl thing! Me, you, Theresa, and River!"

"Well, Ian has joined recently," Alicia pointed out, leaning forward and snatching up a french fry out of her friends' lunch.

"Well, Ian is Theresa's _boyfriend_ , or _was_ anyway. Besides based on what happened yesterday, despite my teasing, I don't think Luke even likes you that much. Why don't you just pursue another guy? I know Daniel Gray has a crush on you."

Alicia sighed dramatically. _Daniel Gray has nothing to do with this._ "I was joking yesterday when I told you I was interested in him," she half-lied. "Luke's attractive, but his attitude is bipolar. I'm interested in him _psychologically._ "

"Psychologically?" Cathy face-palmed at her friend's interest in the neurological. "Oh God not this crap again. I thought you said you were done with all the mind game shit."

"I did, and I'm sorry, but this opportunity is too cool to pass up. I know there's something different about him, and I'm dying to find out! Please just let him join us on this one outing. He could end up being really nice!"

Cathy rolled her eyes, "Fine, but if he ends up being a serial killer. I'm not protecting you,"

"Deal!"

* * *

 _Gah! It's been six months! I'm so sorry guys!_

 _A plethora of excuses: January-February I was recovering from flu (which I somehow caught again). March-April I regained my obsession for the Avatar series. In May, I became swamped with tests (I still have two projects and several more tests in June). Consequently, I have been on an unintended hiatus for half a year! I apologize again (more panicked screams)! While sprinting out this chapter, I debated whether to include more of the story in here just to add more plot, but I knew that would take even longer to crank out and I wanted to let you guys know that I have not disappeared into oblivion so please take this chapter with a lot of patience. It's not my best work; it's not my worst._

 _Some explanation on Alicia's character: Yes, she does have a bit of a crush on Loki (who doesn't reciprocate the feelings), despite knowing that he does not like her back and the fact that she finds him a bit suspicious. But, like a stupid but prudent nerd, she's covering up her feelings with the need to psycho-analyze, a useful but strange habit that will be explained more in later chapters. Now if you don't like the concept of Loki x Alicia, that's not at all set-in stone. Alicia is more of a plot tool to me, and if it ends up that the plot will take me there, it will, but if it won't it won't. Right now, I'm leaning this story more towards the concept of friendship (as the genre states). To you early shippers of the pairing, however, feel free to ship. If the readers of this story ship it, I will be more inclined to write it that way. Please note though: this story is about Loki, and I will keep it about Loki. Even if there is a romance element to this story, it will not envelope the plot._

 _Leave me your thoughts, and I hope to update again soon!_

 _-Grumpy Cat 503_


	5. Chapter 5: Jaded

**Chapter 5: Jaded**

Shake Shack was a "burger place" situated in the apparently famous Midgardian landmark called Times Square. Alicia, who had happily introduced Loki to the rest of her friends, was equally excited to help him decide what to order after she found out that he had never once eaten a hamburger. As he bit into the meaty sandwich now, he had to begrudgingly admit she had made a good choice. Whatever this "mayo" sauce was tasted delicious!

Other than new types of sustenance, there were a few new people to meet as well. Alicia, axiomatically was on good terms with an abundance of people at school, but Loki suspected that this group of adolescents were her closer group of friends based on they acted together. There were three of them today: two girls and a boy (apparently "River" couldn't make it). Cathy, was apparently a girl from their English class. She was tall, athletic, and had a merry glint in her eye that bespoke of mischief. She greeted Loki with affected calmness, and kept looking back at Alicia in a secretive way. Theresa and Ian were the other two people who had come to dine with them. According to Alicia (who had mentioned them during their first encounter) they had a "punch-kiss" relationship, which seemed sadistic. The two were perfectly amiable towards Loki but seemed to hold grudges for each other. Theresa, was controlling and domineering in nature, and reminded him strangely of Lady Sif. On the other hand, Ian was softer-spoken, but still possessed the aggression to banter with his paramour about the true meaning behind "Batman" (whatever that was).

Based on his current observations of Midgard, Loki would have to admit that Asgardians, at least in personality, were no better than Midgardians. Both races created ludicrous social stigma in which "outcasts" were mistreated. Both races fought over petty nonsensical things. And most importantly, they congregated into small social groups in which they all had shared interests and relations.

Perhaps that was the habit of all "higher-minded" organisms.

"Hey Luke-"

The sound of his alias snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced up to meet the eyes of Theresa who was smiling with interest. "-where are you planning on going to college?"

There was a moment of panic as he recalled the answer Agent Romanoff had suggested, but he brushed it off quickly, shrugging. "I'm not really sure yet. My parents are thinking of letting me take a gap year for travel."

"Aw lucky!" Cathy joined in. "I wanted to do that but my parents wouldn't let me. They believe I'll set the Eiffel Tower on fire or something."

The group laughed. Loki strained a smile. He was miraculously talented at keeping a façade, a mask, a lie, but he was wearing out. Small talk was a waste of precious time, and now that he was mortal, he didn't have a lot of it.

That was a notion that tore at his heart.

After a few more minutes of half-heartedly listening to a conversation he only partially understood, he stood up smoothly, picking up his bag from the floor. "I think it's time that I go. My uh… _parents_ might be getting a little worried."

Alicia stood up as well with her usual air of eagerness. "I'll help you find a cab."

In spite of himself, he couldn't disagree. Perhaps he was too tired to tell her no. Perhaps he was secretly a masochist. That would explain how he had ended up standing where he was now, in the middle of Midgard, without magic, a _mortal._

They left the building together, entering the New York City's windy autumn air. The smell of car exhaust filled Loki's nostrils like a slap to the face, and he wrinkled his nose in ardent protest. Flashing signs and screens shown around them as they walked on concrete. Hordes of people moved about like a noisy flock of crows. Pigeons circled in the almost invisible sky.

"It's almost too much isn't it?" Alicia stood, looking at him with an expectant and more serious expression on her face. "It's overstimulating."

"Yes," Loki muttered in reply, his tone a bit tired, growing harsh. "It is."

She blinked, bit her lip (seemingly stunned by his change of mood), and stared at him with focused eyes. "You're an introvert, aren't you? That's why looked pissed off the entire time."

He frowned, unsure of what this Midgardian slang meant, "I looked _pissed?"_

"Angry, annoyed, uncomfortable. Yeah, you looked pissed." Alicia crossed her arms, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have taken that into consideration until introducing you to those three. I think you finally clocked out during the Joker Theory conversation."

Loki paused a moment, surprised at her sincere apology. Though it didn't mean he didn't find her any less annoying he had to respect her for her honesty. He shrugged, "It's fine."

"What's your phone number?" she asked suddenly, her demeanor almost immediately brightening up again. It was an odd change to the conversation.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. Stark had bought him a "cell phone" and had given him a long list of things not to do on it despite claiming that every teenager should have one, but he had never used it yet ( _Don't order things on Ebay. Don't order people on Ebay. Don't watch adult films online. Don't ask what that is. Don't buy too many games off the app store. And don't use grumpy cat memes. I hate grumpy cat…)_.

Alicia held out her hand, "I can check for you."

After a moment of hesitation, he handed it over, deciding he felt no material attachment towards it if she broke it. She turned it on. Clicked on it a little bit, humming as she worked. When she seemed satisfied, she flipped the screen over, showing him the number on the screen, as well as her phone, which now displayed his number as well. She handed it back over with a small smile.

He clicked it off, and put it back into his pocket. And turned around to see a cab coming over. Alicia had hailed it, her hand still up in a wave.

"I'll see ya," she said with a grin.

"Goodnight," he replied, stepping into the cab.

oooOOOooo

Loki arrived back at Stark Tower at approximately 7:30. The sun was setting outside, but it wasn't yet late, at least in Loki's opinion. The Avengers, however, were not happy.

Agent Romanoff greeted him stoically, guiding him up the elevator with a firm hand. Neither of them spoke for a moment, but there was a sense of tightness hanging in the air from both sides.

"I looked at the cameras. I know you didn't really do anything wrong, but they're still going to give you hell, you know," she said, expression almost sympathetic. "They don't trust you."

"Obviously," he leaned calmly against the back wall, running a hand through his hair, playing the part of indifference. "You don't trust me either. You despise me."

"I don't despise you. I don't _like_ you," the Widow corrected coyly. "Despising you is more of Barton's job."

It made sense that the archer had the most hate for him. Loki had controlled him, made him a puppet. He would do it again if there was a true greater purpose to it, but he knew how the archer felt: a mind twisted and contorted until it is barely a mind at all.

The elevator dinged, and Loki followed the assassin to the living quarters. Thor was the first to greet him with a sense of a stern almost parent-like affection that he had not used on Loki since he was a child. "Brother!" he cried, smashing him into a bone-crushing hug. "Where have you been?!" his voice turned harsh. "Why did you not come back to Stark Tower?!"

Loki squirmed, out of the goliath's embrace, stepping back, and crossing his arms, allowing the sarcastic mask of pride to grace his features. "I simply was attempting to enjoy my new time at Midgard. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with that."

"So how did you enjoy your time?" Barton scowled from his spot on the couch, his expression dark, his tone harsh. "Murdering people? Creating a crime syndicate?"

"I think he was making a penguin army," Stark called sarcastically from the minibar. "You know, to take over the world again? Because that what Reindeer Games has always wanted right? _Attention._ "

Stark had hit him at the core, a fact that Loki hated. "Well what have you always wanted, Stark? Money? Power? Women? It's not as if you are somehow superior to me, mortal." It was weak comeback, unlike most of his elegant parries. He was tired, finished with fighting; he stopped the argument at that and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

 _Happy belated 4_ _th_ _of July for all readers from the USA!_

 _It's a long Author's Note today so be prepared to hold your bladder (I'm kidding It's not_ _ **that**_ _long)._

 _First things first: I'm still requesting feedback on Alicia. I don't want to go diving headfirst into Mary Sue-dom and I want you guys to pull me away from the edge. Thanks, ImagiTheNation for being the first to offer feedback on that subject!_

 _Secondly: I have a contest for you guys. It regards psychology, the internet, and a lot of studying, but I have utter faith in all of you! These are the parameters: The Myers Briggs personality test is a psychological work based off the work of Carl Jung. Authors (including me) often write and create characters with it as a basis. So, I want you guys to try and guess what Myers Briggs type Alicia Hughes is. So I don't make this note longer than the actual story, I am placing more information plus an examples of Myers Briggs Types in my profile for your benefit. Whoever gets Alicia's personality type right first gets to choose the theme of the Homecoming Dance in honor of Spider Man: Homecoming (get it? I'm cheesy)!_

 _Lastly: Thanks Geod23(Guest), ImagiTheNation, HelplessbutSatisfied, and Rannoch(Guest) for reviewing. Here are some responeses to your comments/feedback (I want to start answering more individually to my reviewers' questions, suggestions, and concerns):_

 _Rannoch: Thanks for the feedback; I agree with you. Loki needs more bonding with the Avengers, and I would like to implement that. There are two problems with that concept that I have been trying to work out: 1) Bad relations. There is definitely conflict between all of the Avengers and Loki. I have been trying to psychoanalyze which Avenger will first build a positive relationship with him. 2) Teenagerdom. Most of a teenager's day is spent at school. That's an unavoidable fact that is difficult to write around. I tried to put in a little more Avengers into this chapter than what was originally planned though. So I hope that satisfies you for now._

 _HelplessbutSatisfied: Let me just say that I love you author name; Hamilton is my jam! To answer your question: I didn't even realize that Alicia's name was already used in Fullmetal Alchemist! But your comment has lead me to fleshing out Alicia's background more and strengthening her character. Will Roy be in this? I'm not sure. If he is, he'll have a minor part. I already have a lot of OC characters and I don't want to implode everyone's brains with a huge cast. Will Hughes be alive in the MCU? I can neither confirm or deny any details of this operation without conferring with the director of SHIELD ;)_

 _ImagiTheNation: Thanks for your thoughts on Alicia. They were really helpful! As you said, the entire purpose of the character is to help Loki heal. I'll keep your suggestions in mind as I continue to write the character._

 _Thanks for reading this chapter, guys!_

 _Grumpy Cat 503_


	6. Chapter 6: Colors

Chapter 6: Colors

The Avengers watched as Loki stormed out of the living room, their eyes widening slightly when they heard a door (likely the bedroom door) slam behind him. There was a moment of still silence before Thor made a move towards the hallway, his expression sad and weary. He wanted to comfort his brother, talk with him, joke with him like he did when they were younger, but before he could do so, Steve clapped a hand on the God of Thunder's shoulder.

"Wait."

Thor sighed but complied dropping onto the leather couch with a thud. He directed a harsh glance at Tony, preparing to berate him, "Stark-"

"I think we all know that what Clint and I said was justified," the billionaire interrupted, expression bitter.

"It wasn't right, though," Steve said. He bit his lip, and shook his head in disapproval. "You _know_ it wasn't right. He's a kid. In this instance he didn't do anything wrong."

"He's not a kid; he's like a thousand years old. And he did _do_ something," Tony replied sarcastically. "The cow inside his hamburger was murdered."

Clint snickered at the joke, earning him a hard slap to the back of the head from Natasha. She turned to Tony, "Shut up, Stark. I know you and Clint went to Shake Shack last week."

"Yeah, but we only ate fries," Clint said.

Natasha hit him again causing him to let out a startled squeak.

"I think you're missing the point here, guys," Bruce, who had stayed silent during the entire exchange, had put down his book, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I'm the first person to say that Loki's head is a bag full of cats. He is dangerous. But you don't slam a pipe bomb against the wall to get it to stop ticking. You're gentle with it. You slowly dismantle it. Don't be aggressive unless you want to explode."

Steve, Natasha, and Thor nodded their heads with approval to this statement. Tony seemed apathetic, giving a slight shrug. Clint glared at Bruce, unapologetic. "So, you're saying we coddle him? We be nice to the guy who murdered Coulson, destroyed New York, caused you to Hulk out, and me… me to murder innocent people… You're saying we just forgive him?!"

Bruce shook his head, "No, I'm saying we calm him."

Thor nodded in agreement, "My father sent Loki down to Earth to allow him to change as I did. A hostile environment will not help my brother."

"We should set some ground rules for him," Steve suggested, nodding, "So we don't have another misunderstanding."

"Right," Tony nodded his head vigorously. "I think rule number one should be that we all wear pink on Wednesdays."

"Shut up, Stark."

oooOOOooo

" _There will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can't find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain." The other's hand, his claw, reached menacingly towards Loki's forehead-_

Loki's jerked awake, staring at the white ceiling of his room in Stark Tower. His heart raced fast in his chest, which felt odd, strenuous. It was in the wrong place. As an Aesir- as a Jotun- Loki's heart was more towards the center of his chest… He let out a shaky sigh. He didn't feel like moving. He didn't feel like sleeping either. He just wanted- he didn't know what he wanted.

With a great deal of self-motivation, Loki sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed and looking towards the electronic Midgardian timepiece on his nightstand. It read 3:00 AM.

Loki preferred not to return to sleep; his dreams were no safe haven from reality. _But what to do? What to do…_

His gaze flitted over to his backpack which he had thrown to the ground in a fit of anger. It was slightly opened, not enough for anything to fall out, but just enough for him to notice the book the girl had convinced him to borrow from the library.

Reading had always been a source of solace for Loki ever since Mother- Frigga had read to him in bed when he was a small boy. Perhaps now, it would suffice as a relaxant as well. Galvanized, he stood up, slipped his hand into the bag, grabbed the book, and sat back in bed. His eyes read the title:

 _The Book Thief by Markus Zusak._

It _seemed_ interesting enough. He opened the cover.

 _Is this how I am supposed to while away eternity?_ Loki's mind mocked. _Reading?_

He ignored himself, and began.

" _First the colors. Then the humans. That's how I usually see things. Or at least, how I try…"_

* * *

 _Hi guys I'm still here._

 _Admittedly, this was a short-ass chapter, more like a transitional piece, but it's been a while since I last updated and I felt like I had to give you guys something with this Author's Note! So, this is (likely) the shortest chapter in this story to ever be submitted. In my defense, however, these past few months have been difficult, I'm starting my track to getting an IB Diploma, which for the next two years means I'm going to be beaten like a red-headed stepchild with work (I have nothing against gingers, it's just a saying). Yay? This story along with my other Marvel story (a crossover between Psych and the Avengers if you're interested) will be my top priorities for updating, so don't worry too much._

 _ **Regarding the homecoming contest:**_

 _ **I'm changing the parameters. After about three weeks of waiting for votes to come in, I realized that for some stupid reason, the links hadn't posted on my bio. So, the Myers Briggs portion of the contest is canceled! Also I've come up with a formatting system that will make submitting your responses easier as well as give more people a chance to choose themes:**_

 _ **Monday: (insert theme and study hall activity)**_

 _ **Tuesday: (insert theme and study hall activity)**_

 _ **Wednesday: (insert theme and study hall activity)**_

 _ **Thursday: (insert theme and study hall activity)**_

 _ **Friday: (pick school colors and school mascot for pep-rally)**_

 _ **Saturday: (choose dance theme)**_

 _So please post your ideas and stuff! Sorry about the confusion with the MBTI Test!_

 _And my answers to reviewers' concerns (Thanks frozeneyes, Silvermane1, warlocktongue, Joyrapping, Fran-anisca Grave, and Ally(Guest) for reviewing):_

 _Silvermane1: You're totally right. The Avengers being defeated by a teenager is a hilarious (and ridiculous) thing, but I think Tony is a bit too prideful to admit to the fact that he was scared that they lost Loki (imagine what Fury would do!)_

 _warlocktongue: I'm inclined to agree. Bruce likely holds the smallest grudge towards Loki, but remember, Loki is chicken of him because of the Hulk!_

 _Thank you,_

 _-Grumpy Cat 503_


	7. An Apology

Hi guys,

I'm abandoning this work.

Feel free to be mad at me, I don't blame you, but as I writer, I find _A Different Kind of Punishment_ is no longer a piece I'm that concerned with. I started this piece as a humor filled redemption arc for Loki, that was the meaning of it, its purpose and it worked for some time. BUT, as of last year, Loki already redeemed himself in canon. He allied with his brother during Ragnarök and sacrificed himself in _Infinity War_ (I figure this is no longer spoilers). The purpose of _A Different Kind of Punishment_ is fulfilled, and therefore I lack a reason to write it.

To some of you, this might seem like a dumb reason to stop writing. I mean, in the context of two years ago A Different Kind of Punishment was still sort of relevant. As an AU it still is relevant, but I just don't feel the need to redeem Loki anymore. I'm done; I'm over it (in the words of Key and Peele's Meegan).

Here's some information to assuage your anger at me:

1\. I'll give whoever asks for it first in the review section the rights to the story. You can continue it, you can raise it like your child, or a plant, or a baby Groot.

2\. Loki-centric stories aren't over for me. I have two right now that are in the process of being outlined. Expect them to be posted within the next six months. Prepare for some post-Infinity War existential angst!

Thank you so much for going on this journey with me!

Grumpy Cat 503

PS: If any of you still have constructive criticism for me, feel free to tell me in the review section. I'm a literary masochist.


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